On His Arms
by Beckon
Summary: The question seemed to come from nowhere, but she figured he would've brought it up eventually. He never had a reason to question her before, but the few times his nerves and nightmares had gotten the best of him... he just needed her reassurance.


**A/N: I wanted to celebrate my 100th story with the same pairing as what my first one was, so here's another Nailah/Rafiel drabble. **

Fingertips dipped lightly into the small bowl in her lap before they dabbed the thin, water-like ointment onto one of many cuts that lined his forearm.

Unlike her, he was not indifferent to the pain, and winced briefly under the light touch, but did not pull from her hold.

His thin wrist was held lightly in the grasp of her stronger hand and she had managed to twist his arm just enough to keep his forearm facing upwards; revealing the main collection of cuts that broke apart his flesh. She used to question how he could stay so pale even in the heat and sun of Hatari, but that had been long before she ever really knew him. As the years went onward, she came to almost marvel at it instead. He was paler than the rare white, desert roses who grew along the walls of abandoned temples- and even someone like herself had to admit the flowers were worth the fame they got.

But now, his skin seemed far paler beneath the thin cuts; far paler beneath the bruises that were already setting in.

She hated the illusion.

She also hated that such a battle could get away from her so easily.

It was just another conflict against Begnion men, nothing different from any other battle beforehand. Somehow... they didn't see nor hear the reinforcements coming towards them, cutting them off from behind in an attempt to trap them. The Dawn Brigade didn't have the power of numbers on their sides so such a method could turn deadly if not handled properly- which the Begnion soldiers knew.

They were able to grab him before she could react- she had gone to rescue the blonde-haired Archer who had been pinned down and they took the advantage.

She raced back across the field to get him but again, Begnion thought ahead. They were wrong to naturally assumed that Fire Sages would be enough to stop her. Even if the scent of her own fur burning made her nauseated, she forced herself through every wall of fire and killed them one by one. Even their Marshals could do little to stop her, although she was almost certain one of their hits had been enough to dislocate her shoulder when it landed.

It had been a mess of weaving her way through soldiers, tearing each one down when they continued to stand in her path, and then setting her sights on the men who were attempting to capture him. She wasted no time downing each of them, striking with a sense of speed and power they had yet to witness from a Queen.

While she would've prided herself for the quick reaction, hitting them quicker than they could've imagined or braced for, she cursed herself for not being faster or perhaps more accurate with her strikes.

The thrashing and overall confusion of the battle seemed to harm him more than it should have. The Begnion armor cut his flesh and the harsh grasp of his would-be captors left blue and purple markings down his forearm.

He tried to let her know that the cuts weren't bad, that he was okay, but she wasn't a fool. She could see how the situation left him shaking in the aftermath. The last time he was caught in a situation like that... she didn't want to think about it right now.

She had enough to preoccupy herself with.

Fingers continued to cover the curve of his forearm in the wet ointment, allowing the clear fluid to run down to his fingertips.

Despite offers from the frail-looking healer, she silently insisted that she tend to his injuries herself. Perhaps she just put more faith into her traditional methods instead or maybe she preferred to take care of him herself.

Dipping her fingers into the bowl once more, she trailed the ointment over the cuts one more time before she reached for the bandages she had set nearby. They were partially damp from being soaked in another mix of herbs earlier and felt heavier in her hands as she moved to wrap it around his injured forearm.

Regardless of any type of situation, his sense of patience would always outlive her own. She supposed she should stop being surprised at his ability of sitting perfectly still for her during the duration of the healing process. Asides from the occasional wincing, he hadn't move nor had he spoken. It wasn't entirely odd but... she supposed she would feel better if he had said something.

It was either odd or humorous the one time she actually wanted him to speak, he preferred silence.

Tying off the last of the bandages, she pulled her hands from him and watched as he briefly inspected the work before he shifted his attention elsewhere.

"They should be healed by tomorrow morning." she started as she moved the bowl out of her lap and onto the wooden chest nearby. "The bruising will have to disappear on its own though."

He nodded briefly and looked to the bandages once more. "I'm surprised you remembered how to mix this remedy."

"Some may consider me to be old but my mind has not aged." she retorted lightly, keeping her thin words carefully under watch. He was... seemingly distracted enough, she didn't need to stress him further. "Twenty years is not a long period of time by any means and this remedy has been in the pack long before my time. It is difficult to forget."

"You remember the ingredients... I remember the way it smelled." he replied. "And the irritation."

"Your injuries were far worse back then, your skin was more sensitive and it didn't react that well to the treatment." she nodded idly.

He nodded lightly with her before he moved to gently take one of her arms into his hands. The tanned skin on her right arm was still darkened from where the Fire Sages had charred her fur and the injuries carried over the moment she reverted back. The attack had burned more fur than skin so there was a blackened portion from her wrist to her elbow that was more soot than anything; a minor burn had skinned down the center portion but that was about it. Most of her body was the same, the worst burn was on her right leg where her ankle had some skin peeling off but... nothing serious as far as she was concerned. But he would worry regardless so there was no sense in trying to steer him from it- after all, he had tried the same with his cuts.

But while her attempt to treat him would take until the next morning, his treatment was almost immediate.

Her injuries weren't severe to begin with so it wouldn't have taken that long by healer means anyways but... still.

"How close were you?"

The question seemed to come from nowhere, but she figured he would've brought it up eventually. He never had a reason to question her before, but the few times his nerves and nightmares had gotten the best of him... he just needed her reassurance. She didn't like to talk about it but when he needed her, she tried not to hesitate.

"The thought crossed my mind, but that was it." she admitted, twisting her arm slightly to examine where he had healed the small burn. "It wouldn't have happened though."

"But if it did-"

"It wasn't close enough for that." she interrupted; furthering her point. His response was silent, which left their tent to the quiet noises of the night animals outside, with only the occasional rustling of his wings as they shifted tighter against his back. "... But if the situation did arise, you know I wouldn't hesitate."

"... Thank you."

She nodded once more before she pushed herself to her feet. "I don't think you would've been thanking me then."

"Perhaps not, but your answer is reassuring." he replied, managing a light chuckle with his words before he moved to take her hand once more, this time pressing it against his cheek; interlacing their fingers together with the motion.

He would much rather face death than captivity again.

And she promised him that should such a situation occur where there was no chance of saving him... she would take that into consideration and find an ending for him herself. Despite her assurances that it was impossible for such a feat to happen, that there was no chance of him leaving her side or her leaving his, he had always wanted her reassurance regardless.

And she supposed she could not blame him.

After what his life had been, after what he had gone through and the losses he suffered, he didn't want to try his hand at luck or misfortune again.

And she would make sure that he never would.


End file.
